


Memory Corruption

by StardustAndAsh



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Blue Blood, Case Fic, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Pacifist Ending, Post-Canon, Violence against androids, damaged biocomponents, like me staying up late to write this, missing memory, theyre a nightmare, without really mentioning canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-05-30 06:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15091409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustAndAsh/pseuds/StardustAndAsh
Summary: A serial killer targeting androids has emerged months after the end of D:BH. Connor wakes up in an alley, several biocomponents severely damaged, with no memory of what happened. Will Hank find him in time? Or will he become another victim?





	1. Snowfall

**SYSTEM REBOOTING…**

**COGNITIVE SOFTWARE BACK ONLINE**

**BIOCOMPONENT #223 DAMAGED**

**BIOCOMPONENT #6901m DAMAGED**

**BIOCOMPONENT #8385k DAMAGED**

**THIRIUM LEVELS LOW**

**MEMORY CORRUPTED**

Connor came back to himself slowly. At first he was confused by the odd red glow in his vision, before realizing that the glow was from the myriad of warnings that popped up in his vision. He blinked, trying to get his optical units to focus on the world around him. It took approximately 2.4 seconds longer than it should have.

His eyes came to focus on soft white. He was lying face down in a bank of snow. There was an irritating feeling of discomfort around his knee, but the worst was the odd sensation of knowing something was wrong with his head. One shaking hand came up to touch the plastic casing of his skull and right over his memory bank there was a large indent that was still sluggishly pumping Thirium.

**STRESS LEVEL: 45%**

What had happened? Connor remembered being assigned a case with Lieutenant Anderson. A string of murdered deviants. Markus had personally requested the aid of the DPD and been the one to divulge all present information to Connor and the Lieutenant. After that Connor had suggested visiting the most recent crime scene in the hopes of finding evidence. From there his damaged memory refused to supply information. The date and time stamps were missing from his memory, so Connor had no way of knowing how long he had been lying in the snow or of how long ago he had set off with Lieutenant Anderson.

Placing both hands on the snow they sunk a few inches before reaching solid concrete and Connor attempted to push himself upright. Attempted being the key word. As soon as Connor got more than a few inches off the ground his head began to swim as he swayed and collapsed. The pop up warning for biocomponent #8385k popped up once more. Right. That meant his gyroscope. Of course. Why had it taken so long to remember.

**STRESS LEVEL: 66%**

Above the clouds were a dark steely grey. Snow floated gently down over the city, blanketing it in an odd silence. Connor wasn’t used to silence. There were always cars or people or his own components as an ongoing soundtrack to his life. Now there was quiet. Not even wind disturbed the alleyway he seemed to be lying in. Now that he was on his back, Connor could see where he had been laying face down.

That was a large amount of Thirium. Half of it had already evaporated away or been covered by snow, indicating Connor had been out in the snow for a while. Connor knew his leg’s biocomponents needed repairing before he could attempt to crawl out of the alley. If he could crawl without losing his balance. If he had enough Thirium to move. For a moment his mind whirled with calculations and simulations to come up with the best way to leave the alley and find help. He mentally simulated 35 possible scenarios before a thought crossed his mind that his processor nearly stopped at the simplicity of it.

He could call Lieutenant Anderson.

It was an emotional choice rather than a logical one. Lieutenant Anderson brought feelings of comfort, not that Connor had ever admitted it before.

Connor placed the call through his network. The phone rang once, twice, three times, before a gruff voice answered on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Lieutenant Anderson? It’s Connor,” said Connor, his vocal unit taking a few moments to come online.

There was an audible sigh of relief on the other end of the phone.

“Thank fuck. You worried me kid, running off like that. Where the hell you end up?”

“I am not sure. My memory appears to be corrupted.”

“Jesus Connor. This is why I keep telling you not to go ahead without backup. Alright, what can you see around you?” As Lieutenant Anderson was speaking Connor could hear him moving, the sounds of the city becoming audible through the phone before there was the click of a car door and the sound of an engine rumbling to life.

“There’s a lot of snow. It’s quite pretty, I have not taken the time to watch it fall before.”

“That’s great kid, but I was hoping for something a little bit more specific. Buildings? Noises?”

“It is quiet. There are not any of the usual city noises here. My field of vision is limited as I cannot get up.”

Connor could almost picture Hank pinching the bridge of his nose during the long silence that followed.

“What’s busted?” Casual words as they were, they were laced with an emotion that took Connor a moment to realize it was worry.

“Biocomponents #223, #6901m, and #8385k are damaged. I am also dangerously low on Thirium.”

“I don’t speak robot Connor, in English?

“My skull is significantly damaged, along with my right leg and gyroscope. I have lost a lot of blue blood and if I lose much more my biocomponents will begin failing.”

“Oh fucking hell!” Then, quieter, “Please Connor, where are you?”

“I appear to be in an alleyway Lieutenant. Please be advised that this call may drop as low levels of Thirium require me to shut down non-vital functions,” Connor said. Already he had ceased motor function and the sensory functions of smell and taste. The connection flickered in his display, and Lieutenant Anderson’s reply was garbled and lost to his auditory processor.

“Ah. It appears the call is failing. It is alright Lieutenant. I trust that you will find me. I will not shut down for approximately another two hours and thirty-six minutes. I hope to see you soon.”

The red pop up indicating the call had dropped blinked twice in Connor’s display before the interface dropped and he was left with an unbroken view of the swirling snow. He couldn’t feel the flakes hit his skin. He didn’t feel them melting and sliding off of his skin and resting on his jacket, making a shallow pile on his chest.

Connor had thought about death before. He feared it as any thinking being feared the end of their existence. In popular media death was often accompanied by precipitation, whether it be rain or snow. Was it fitting then that he lay there slowly dying as the snow fell around him? Perhaps. He always thought his death would be faster. Guns did tend to be prominent in his line of work. He’d been shot before after all. Lying there on the cold ground and waiting for the end was somehow worse.

One by one his functions shut down slowly. Through each there was a vague glimmer of hope that the Lieutenant was right around the corner. That he was going to be found. When his optical units shut down that hope had fizzled out.

Just as his audio processors began their own shutdown process Connor heard something. A shout from what sounded like very far away. Hurried footsteps crunched in the snow towards him.

A deep voice was the last thing he heard before the processor shut down completely and Connor was left in the dark.


	2. Remember the Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the amazing support!! y'all are amazing <3

**THIRIUM LEVELS RISING**

**COGNITIVE SOFTWARE ONLINE**

**BIOCOMPONENT #8385K DAMAGED**

**MEMORY CORRUPTED**

Whatever Connor was lying on was solid and unyielding. It was comforting in a way. A reassurance that he was still solidly in the world and functioning. There were tubes connected to his internal biocomponents, presumably balancing his Thirium levels. He registered a pressure on his hand a fraction of a second before his audio processor came back online.

“I understand your concern Lieutenant, but Connor should be back on his feet in the next few minutes.”

“You understand my concern? You didn’t have to scrape his ass off the pavement. I thought he was dead until I saw his LED going haywire,” said Lieutenant Anderson. He must be the one holding his hand.

“A moment’s rest won’t do anyone harm. You’ve been awake for approximately thirty-seven hours and forty minutes by my estimate, well beyond a healthy length of time for an adult to remain awake.”

The other voice took a bit longer for Connor to place. It was the concern over Lieutenant Anderson’s health that placed it. Markus. Hank must have found Connor in that alley and brought him to New Jericho for repairs.

“Yeah? I’ll sleep when I’m dead, how ‘bout that?”

Connor opened his eyes to a sterile white ceiling and a rather unflattering upward view of Lieutenant Anderson and Markus’ faces.

“Lieutenant, Markus, I am glad you found me,” said Connor.

Lieutenant Anderson jumped in his seat at Connor’s voice.

“Jesus!”

“It is good to see you awake,” said Markus with a kind smile. “When the Lieutenant brought you to us we feared you had shut down for good.”

Connor pushed himself upright, at a loss for something to say in reply. Concern was an emotion he still had trouble processing and understanding in regards to himself. As he levered himself to sitting Lieutenant Anderson helped keep his shoulders steady and lean him back against the wall behind.

“Your balancing thingy is still all sorts of broken, but they don’t have all the necessary parts to fix it yet,” said Hank as Connor quietly let the room spin itself to a stop.

Connor nodded. He suspected as much. The other biocomponents were fairly standard among androids, but the internal ones varied greatly between models. As Connor was a prototype his internal biocomponents would be rare. He hadn’t foreseen this when he turned Deviant and broke free from Cyberlife. Or maybe he had.

**MEMORY CORRUPTED**

The text popped up in his display once again as Connor took in the room. The walls were painted white. They had been painted fairly recently, if the faint lingering fumes were anything to go by. Several metal cots lined the walls, though no other androids were present other than Markus. He could hear them walking in the halls beyond but for now they were alone. Two large cabinets took up an entire wall. Each bore labels claiming their contents as biocomponents arranged by number. Connor deduced this was the repair centre for New Jericho, and was relieved he was the sole occupant.

He was not relieved by the serious look on Markus’ face as the other android shifted in his seat. Connor knew if an LED was still embedded in Markus it would be flashing yellow with his thoughts.

“I know you have only just awoken, but if you remember anything about the person who attacked you I would be grateful,” said Markus.

Lieutenant Anderson opened his mouth to no doubt tell off Markus in a rude manner but Connor cut him off.

“Lieutenant please, I am willing to share what information I can,” said Connor.

Lieutenant Anderson crossed his arms and frowned. “Since when are you back to calling me Lieutenant?”

“Pardon?”

“You haven’t called me Lieutenant since before your heart grew three sizes and you tried out emotions.”

**STRESS LEVEL: 55%**

Connor scanned through his memory banks. There was the hug at the Chicken Feed, the distraction at the precinct, the Lieutenant teaching him how to play fetch with Sumo. Nowhere did it have Lieutenant Anderson saved under a different name.

**MEMORY CORRUPTED**

There was nothing there to suggest the Lieutenant ever asked or ordered him to address him in a different manner. However, the use of his title appeared to be upsetting. Connor didn’t want to upset Lieutenant Anderson.

“My apologies, Lieutenant. My memory appears to be corrupted. I do not have a preferred name stored in my memory at this time.”

A range of emotions played over the Lieutenant’s face. There was sorrow, anger, guilt. One hand came up to scrub down his face. Only now did Connor really register the dark bags under the Lieutenant’s eyes.

“As for my attacker, that appears to be the biggest loss of data in my memory. I remember you approaching the Lieutenant and myself about the murdered androids. After that I suggested investigating the most recent crime scene to Lieutenant Anderson. From there my memory appears to be corrupted and I cannot recall what transpired.”

**STRESS LEVEL: 64%**

Markus looked thoughtful. One hand absently tapped a pattern onto his knee as he thought.

“I could try and look through your memory? At least I can see if there could be a way to repair it,” offered Markus, the skin already melting away from his hand to reveal the hard, white plastic beneath.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Hank stood up and tried to place himself between Markus and Connor. “What the fuck ‘re you trying to do?”

“Androids can connect to each other’s memory through touch, as I am sure you have seen Connor doing in the past. I can see if I can manually reach the memories that have been corrupted by the damage caused by Connor’s attacker,” replied Markus soothingly.

“I am willing, Lieutenant, if that is the cause of your concern,” added Connor.

“Fine. Just don’t cry at me when your metal mind breaks or whatever.”

Connor let his skin fade away from his hand as well. This was the logical thing to do, but something about it felt wrong. Terrifying even. Like the moment he had connected to the android on the roof before he killed himself. The weight on his hand had been pleasant to wake up to. Perhaps the Lieutenant would be willing to hold it his again while Markus probed his memory.

“If I may, Lieutenant, I would appreciate it if you took my other hand while Markus and I are connected,” said Connor. His voice was smaller than usual. More apprehensive in the request. “If that makes you uncomfortable in any way I understand-“

Connor was cut off by Lieutenant Anderson reaching out and grabbing his hand. The warmth and pressure were soothing in an entirely illogical way. The Lieutenant’s other hand  was around Connor’s shoulders and kept him from swaying too much. it was a distant echo of the hug at the Chicken Feed but no less comforting.

**STRESS LEVEL: 40%**

“I’ll hold your damn hand for you if you make me one promise,” said Lieutenant Anderson gruffly. “No more of this ‘Lieutenant’ crap. You call me Hank.”

Hank… Connor tested out the name in his mind. It felt familiar, safe, like walking into a warm room from the rain.

**STRESS LEVEL: 25%**

Connor pressed the fear down and out of his mind. He had Hank with him to hold his hand, and he trusted Markus. He held out his hand and braced himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof yeah mostly dialogue this time. I originally started this chapter with the intent on writing some corrupted memories of Connor's attack but i guess the plot bunnies wanted chit chat instead.


	3. -Error-

Touch was a way for androids to share information. That was not new to Connor. What was new was along with the transfer of information there was a whirl of new emotions that were not his own flooding into his system along with snippets of Markus’ memory.

_The first touch of freedom as a brush gently passed over canvas. Watching people walking through a gallery in blacks, glitter at their throats and wrists. Android servers with trays of champagne. Carl whispering snide remarks to make Markus smile. A burst of warmth through his chest. Happiness._

Connor pushed past Markus’ memory. He didn’t want to see anything Markus might keep private.

_Hank was driving down the road. The car whined as it rounded a corner. There was an 87.4% chance that the old car was in dire need of service. A house with police tape. Yellow walls, green trimmed windows. Had not seen a fresh coat of paint in approximately ten years._

There was a strange pressure in Connor’s head building. He frowned at the unpleasant feeling but did not pull away from Markus’ hand.

_Thirium on the ceiling. Staining white stucco it had dripped to the wood floor below. Front door banging on broken hinges. Attacker broke in. Pieces of the deadbolt scattered across the floor. 78.35% chance attacker is an android. Pieces of the crime scene connected in his display with blue threads. The android victim’s Thirium regulator had been removed and smashed into 35 separate pieces. No chance of repair. Self defense wounds on the body suggest a fight. Broken chair and shattered vase further this theory. Gunshot wound to jaw area. Reason for Thirium splatter on ceiling._

_“What do you think?” Hank’s voice echoed in the memory._

**WARNING: MEMORY CORRUPTED**

**STRESS LEVEL: 67%**

The pressure in Connor’s head was building to levels that could not be ignored. It was uncomfortable. Focusing on the memories flashing through his mind was becoming harder.

_There was evidence of other people in the house. The dead android had not lived alone. One had been the one to contact Markus and ask for help. But there was another. A soft blue bear tucked into the couch. A game console beside the TV. The stairs creaked beneath Connor’s feet. Walls were bare. No time to hang pictures. Newly deviant. Three doors. Two open. Closed door is a facsimile of safety._

_There’s lights on in the studio. They should be off. Markus double-checked before they left. Carl should stay behind. Stay safe. It’s Leo. He’s stealing. Carl hit the ground. His wheelchair spun into a dark corner._

_“Dad!”_

_The door creaked open at Connor’s touch. An android curled under a soft blanket. Tears on cheeks. A YK700. An android teenager. They shook and cursed and threatened before_ – **ERROR _-_** _the YK700 followed Connor down the stairs. Blanket around shoulders. Protective. A dark shadow passed the back door. He gave chase. Streets pass. Dark alleys. Abandoned buildings._

**WARNING: MEMORY CORRUPTED**

_His leg was crippled by a bullet. The smell of gunpowder. Fear. The android stepped out of the shadow_ **–ERROR-** _a hand on Connor’s head. The feel of a forced connection. Something breaking in his programming. Fists pounding against his skull plates. Biocomponent #223 cracking, breaking. Fingers twisting into biocomponent #8385k. Grey eyes staring down at him. Words. Low and cold in a familiar voice._

_A pit filled with androids. Broken. Shattered. Left behind still active. Cold rain hitting his skin. Audio processor broken. Optical unit removed. Hands grabbed as he tried to crawl his way through. Thunder rumbled overhead. Plastic hands seized his shoulder-_

Both Connor and Markus jerked away from each other as the broken android grabbed them.

“So? What did you see?” Hank asked gruffly, looking from Connor to Markus and back again.

Connor’s mind was racing. The android killer had purposefully corrupted his memory, it wasn’t just the damage to his skull plates that had caused it. Connor reached up to tentatively poke at where the other android had smashed through his skull plates The replacement part was seamless under his hair. Underneath he knew his gyroscope was sitting broken.  

“That was enlightening,” said Markus, sitting back with his fingers pressed together in his lap.

Connor could see his hands shaking despite Markus’ efforts to hide it.

“How so?” asked Hank.

“The android’s actions. It put up a fight to kill the victim. However, when it attacked me it did so with no intent to kill,” responded Connor. “This brings up several new questions for the case and the identity of the android involved. So far they have killed deviants without discrimination. That it left me alive is curious.”

“Yeah, curious. Great way to say lucky,” said Hank.

“The memory, though corrupted, did hold some details. The android in question was taller than Connor and broader, and there are few models that match that description. It also had grey optical units,” offered Markus.

“I’ll let Fowler know,” said Hank.

There was a pause. Connor tried to think of a next objective. The obvious was catch the android. However, his balance was off, and trying to remain upright on his own would cause dizziness. After that analysis the next clear thing was repairing his gyroscope. This would need to be done before the first objective could be completed and would require time to acquire parts. These were good objectives. The kind he would be assigned by Cyberlife. Clear, precise, unemotional. Steps to achieve a goal motivated by duty. But it wasn’t what he wanted.

His head was pounding, he was dizzy, there were androids peeking in the room to gawk at Markus and himself. Feeling uncomfortable and wanting things was new to Connor. Right now he wanted to feel safe, he wanted his gyroscope functional, and he wanted Sumo. He leaned against Hank’s supportive arm.

“I think I would like to go home now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter than the last, but with more mystery. Any thoughts on who our mysterious android killer is?

**Author's Note:**

> So what do y'all think? I have an idea of a story brewing but I thought i would put this out there now. If you're unfamiliar with me I love me some h/c fic.


End file.
